Page 96 of Pieces of Us

‘I’m throbbing inside you, baby. Look, can you see it pumping deep inside?’ We both look down in awe together, seeing her cum coat my cock.

‘It’s so hot, baby. Your come. I can feel it pouring inside of me. Fuck, it feels so good.’ My lips connect with her throat as we both come together.

‘Come for me again, baby. I need you to squirt all over me.’ I plunge her down on my cock, my balls hitting her clit with a powerful force. Her head flies back and I’m sure I’m tearing her pussy apart with the way it splits open around me. ‘That’s it, Hart. That’s it. You’re so amazing baby, such an amazing fucking slut for my cock. That’s it. Good girl.’

I continue to fuck her into the night, once in her ass and twice again in her pussy. By the time I’m finished with her, she looks like a cum slut dripping in me. Who the fuck knew this filthy girl was hiding underneath those layers all those years ago?

By the time I’m done with her, she’s spent and I’m starving.

‘Food?’ I ask, slapping her ass. She’s currently lying on her stomach, hugging the pillow.

‘Just water.’

My eyes furrow. It has been hours since we’ve even come up for breath, and I’m sure she’s just as zapped of energy as I am. I need a protein shake, or a piece of bread, or something, otherwise I’ll faint. It’s impossible that she isn’t as ravished as I am. The size of her alone tells me she needs to eat something before she passes out.

‘Stop thinking. Stop overanalysing. Stop ruining the moment. I can hear you thinking from here,’ she groans, turning her angelic face to me. Her mascara is smudged under her eyes, making her look like a panda. She’s sinfully gorgeous. ‘If I eat now, I’ll feel bloated and disgusting, which will make my mind tick and itch until I eventually give in and go to the bathroom and stick my hands down my throat. Please don’t make me do that. I get triggered by late night snacks.’ Her voice is so soft and sad, I almost hate myself for caring so goddamn much about her.

I stroke her back soothingly, loving how the feel of her skin is almost the same velvet of my sheets, which are saturated. ‘What about when we used to pig out late at night?’ I remember all the times we used to eat pizza, chocolate and lollies during our movie marathons, or order french fries from Mcdonalds after the handful of times we had sex.

‘That’s when it all started. I used to feel so ashamed of my overeating and inability to control myself. I comfort ate even more when I was sent to Sydney, and then after…everything that happened, it’s like my binge eating multiplied at times when I wasn’t eating at all. I was using injections, exercising, starving, vomiting and bingeing. It was a rollercoaster. My therapist told me to avoid late night snacking because it leads to bingeing.’ Now it makes sense. These are the hurdles we still have to get through. I had no idea, and why would I?

Still unhappy with her not eating anything, I begin to compromise. ‘How about I get you a bottle of water, and maybe a couple of strawberries or slices of apple?’

She mulls over my offer. I see her warring eyes, and this time I know what she’s thinking without even asking. She’s thinking that she doesn’t want to disappoint me, but also about the consequences if she eats a couple of pieces of fruit. With a little nod, she flops her head back down on the pillow. Before I leave the bed, I glide the sheet up her spine, kissing the top of her neck. I don’t want her to get a chill while I’m gone, but mark my words, the sheet is only temporary.

As I make my way back downstairs, I make a note not to trigger her further and decide to eat in the kitchen. She doesn’t need to see me chow down a cup of two minute noodles and half a pack of Iced Vovos. After ten or so minutes, I make my way back upstairs, juggling the plate with half a pear on it and the bottle of water, which has condensation leaking down my hand.

‘I’ll leave it on the bedside,’ I say, placing the contents down and giving her cheek a kiss. ‘I’m going to go get a warm cloth and clean you up, okay?’ I decide it’s best to leave her to make her own decision on whether she wants to eat the fruit or not. She doesn’t need additional pressure from me.

Taking longer than usual, I leave the tepid water running a while as I take a leak. My poor, exhausted cock hangs limply. He hasn’t gotten that much action in a while. Flushing, I go to the tap and rinse my hands. Leaning over, I grab a hand towel and run it under the stream. Wringing it out just enough, I turn off the faucet and leisurely stroll back into my room.

Amity has the sheet pulled up under her armpits and is staring at the fruit as if it’s offensive. She flip flops between taking a bite and popping the plate down, but eventually she takes a nibble and chews slowly. I’m proud of her, but I don’t make a big deal.

‘Lose the sheet, Hart.’ My voice is gruff, knowing I’m about to set site on her fuckable tits. She does as I say, taking little bites of the pear. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my breath is stolen from me as I see her propped up. This is where she belongs. Where she’s always belonged. ‘You’re so goddamn beautiful.’ A small shy smile greets me in return. It’s like she still needs convincing.

While she nibbles away, I start wiping the remnants of our fucking off her body, starting on her cheek and working my way down to her sweet pussy. When I’m done, I give her pussy a kiss, making her shudder.

‘Don’t start what you can’t finish, Linc,’ she challenges me with a quirk of her eyebrow, placing the plate on the bedside once more. I’m thrilled to see all three pieces of the fruit have vanished.

‘Who says I can’t finish, baby?’ And just like that, I dive back down and bury my head in her pussy.

The last of Amity’s bags are sitting at the foot of Uncle Mark’s stairwell. Dad, Rome, Uncle Mark and a teary Lily and Jas are standing around as if they are at a wake. To be honest, I feel pretty much the same. It brings back harsh memories of when she left for Sydney all those years ago. I’m not really sure when I’ll see her again, and it’s unsettling.

For the better part of the last few days, I’ve lived inside her, only really letting her go when she had to have some girl time with Lily, or take a business meeting. We’ve done a lot of connecting for sure, but reconnecting? I don’t think we had made as much progress as we hoped we would.

Watching her say goodbye to those who matter the most is shattering. She’s my heart, and with her leaving, she’s taking it with her. I stand numbly with my hands in my pockets, sulking at the prospect of going stretches of weeks, or even months without her. She may as well have just packed up my heart along with the rest of her belongings.

Her leaving is a stark reminder that her life is based in Los Angeles, and her job takes her all around the world—away from me. We haven’t made firm plans on when we’ll see each other next, with us being casual and all, and it is fucking killing me. It’s killing me that our status is so airy fairy, and that we haven’t committed to spending actual time with each other.

I offered to drive her to the airport—or more like insisted. Uncle Mark still isn’t able to drive yet, and is heading into the hospital with Lily for a rehab session. Rome has something on with his parents, and I already warned/threatened Dad and Jas not to utter a word about coming along.

I want the last moments with Amity. We’ve spent years apart, so every second matters.

‘You’ll be home right before Christmas, right?’ Uncle Mark asks, pulling her in for a side hug and kissing her temple.

‘Yep, and Mum is too. I think she’s planning to stay a while, even after I have to jet off.’ I can hear the hope in her voice, despite her sniffles and red-rimmed eyes at leaving her dad.

‘Oh, she didn’t mention it,’ Uncle Mark says casually. ‘Is she staying here?’

---